Lady Felice's Secretive Lesson - Chapter 7
It was a perfect evening as darkness settled in.
Claude stood crookedly on the balcony of his room, watching a carriage approaching from afar. Even in the deep black shadows of the night, the dazzling golden emblem shimmered brilliantly. Tonight, the sound of the horse’s hooves seemed louder than usual.
“Someone might think I’m still a kid who can’t even tie his own tie.”
With his arms crossed, Claude let out a long sigh.
He had once thought his mother’s worries were excessive, but it seemed dismissing them as nothing more than passing fuss had backfired.
Sometimes, when he saw his mother anxiously pacing over her son’s marriage, he couldn’t understand her. Yet, meeting men like himself from time to time made him realize his mother was not so different from other mothers, which gave him a strange feeling.
Only a few months ago, he had thought he was better off than the child of a certain Baron family who was desperately obsessed with their son’s marriage…
But now, Claude found himself envying that Baron’s child.
Not only his aunt but now his mother had joined forces, fixated on pushing his marriage forward.
“Your Highness, Miss Felice Kelton is here.”
“Ha…”
“As a tutor…”
“Can she at least teach me how to tie a tie?”
“……”
The butler remained silent at Claude’s sarcasm. Frustrated with the poor butler, Claude sighed once again.
“Tell her to wait in the reception room for now. Also, prepare letters to send to my mother and aunt.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
* * *
Like at the palace, Felice had to wait a long time in the prince’s reception room. There was no guidance or announcement. Just as before, she spent the anxious wait guessing when it might be her turn.
After drinking about three cups of tea served by a maid, Felice sighed. She tried to think positively, but enduring this indefinite waiting as a guest made her resentment quietly turn toward her father.
If only her father hadn’t left so much debt, she wouldn’t have had to endure such treatment, waiting as a mere guest at this late hour.
“…My weak father.”
Her father, who had refused both boxing and fencing, claiming men didn’t always have to be fighters, had gradually become an outcast in society. The reputation of her grandfather and Barony Kelton had been her only support, but that all crumbled when her grandfather passed away.
Around her father, there were countless smooth-talking con artists tempting him, and having spent his life avoiding such things, he had no resistance.
Several failed business ventures followed by bouts of depression.
Her father’s face, sinking deeper into despair, showed no motivation unless it was time for gambling. When his illness worsened and he was hospitalized, thus preventing him from gambling, it was, if anything, a relief.
Knock, knock.
The sound of knocking echoed, and Felice gathered herself.
Even if she was an unwelcome guest at this late hour, the owner of this mansion could be the ray of light she needed. If she completed this commission well, she wouldn’t have to work as a tutor anymore.
Without even the creak of a hinge, the door gently opened.
“I’ve kept my guest waiting a long time.”
Felice thought the low, penetrating voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she didn’t think much about it.
After all, how could a mere Baron Lady like herself know the Queen’s secret second son, who had yet to be announced publicly?
“…”
But their eyes met in midair, and an awkward silence filled the reception room.
“That… ‘charity’?”
Felice’s expression tightened at the crude word that broke the silence.
“Charity…?”
It was clear the man recognized her too. He wasn’t mistaking her for someone else. Still, Felice clung to a shred of hope and asked again. Could it be that he called it ‘charity’ because he thought she had refused payment?
To call the person who gave him the bouquet of flowers for her grandfather ‘charity’…
“What a coincidence, in the vast capital of the empire.”
The man sneered and turned his head aside. Then, looking back at Felice, he frowned.
“Ah… maybe that meeting wasn’t so coincidental? Even if we had already talked, it wasn’t that long ago.”
“The bouquet was a coincidence. More importantly, I think you owe me an explanation about calling it ‘charity.’”
“Are you saying it wasn’t charity?”
“Generally, it’s called help.”
“Ha! How ridiculous. To call that ‘help.’”
“…That’s rude.”
Felice could no longer hold back and raised her voice at the man with the 10,000 francs. She realized her mistake immediately, but it was already spoken.
The man’s eyebrows twitched in response.
